


you just might wave hello again

by winterpolis



Category: Sky High (2005)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-24 15:27:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9768116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterpolis/pseuds/winterpolis
Summary: | drabbles |Little moments in between one hello and one goodbye, in the interim, and in the continuing stories of their lives.





	1. warmth

**Author's Note:**

> Recently rekindled my love for this ship so here I am. I've always been a fan of Sky High, more so of Warren and Layla; I always thought they had so much potential and so much more depth than the Will and Layla did.

"You're staring again."

Without lifting his gaze or turning his head towards the sound of the voice, Warren nodded, the corner of his lips quirking into a half smirk. "I know.” 

Hearing the resigned sigh to his left, he chuckled. That was something he hadn’t been quite used to doing until he met _her_ , and even on his best days, he found himself wondering how she’d ever managed to break him out of his shell so completely and so wholly, he didn’t turn into a soft-hearted _sidekick_. Then again, things slowly started changing after she—quite literally—barged her way into his life, starting with his sour demeanor and then his opinion of she and her sidekick friends. Shaking his head at the memories, the half smirk softened into a small smile.

“You stare at her any longer and she might combust by some wacko extension of your powers, man,” the new voice came from his right this time and he rolled his eyes.

“Sure, because that’s even possible.”

He felt the lanky man beside him shrug. “You never know, man, you never know.”

There was a beat of silence before all three burst into laughter.

“Where do you even get these lines, Zach? You get more pathetic with each one you whip out.” Warren finally tore his gaze away from the object of his attention (and affections—not that he’d ever admit that out loud…okay, he would, but only in the confines of their privacy) to raise a challenging brow at his white-haired friend (that was another change she had brought into his life that he was still getting used to—having friends).

Zach huffed in near annoyance. “Some people just can’t appreciate my genius. Not my fault you’re one of them.” Ah yes. If lightening up and getting friends was _her_ effect on Warren, growing a backbone—albeit a shaky one at best—was Zach's, courtesy of Magenta.

Will chuckled from where he stood to the pyrokinetic’s left. Before he could open his mouth to join in the conversation, a sharp gasp from the pair of girls seated on the picnic table interrupted him.

Heart dropping for a split second, Warren all but ran towards the source of the sound, towards her.

“Layla? Layla, what’s wrong? Is he okay? Where does it hurt?” He’d come crashing on his knees in front of her, taking her wrists gently as he took in her wide eyes and heavy intake of breath. The worry was eating him alive with every second she sat still and unseeing. _Dammit, Layla, talk to me!_ A thousand scenarios ran through his head, each one making him even more anxious.

“Layla?!”

By now, all the members of their ragtag group of heroes and sidekicks had surrounded the two.

“Lay—"

“I…we’re okay,” came the sudden murmur, warm brown eyes focusing on his own.

“Goddammit, Layla, don’t you ever—" Warren’s frantic tirade was interrupted by her brilliant smile. “What the hell are you smiling about, hippie?” So old habits die hard, sue him.

“He...” the redhead paused and turned her hands so that they grasped his wrists instead, placing them palms down to press against her round belly. “He was just feeling cold and wanted to be near Dad. You know, warmth and all.”

Warren blinked twice, lips twitching in left-over fear, irritation, and then finally, joy. He didn’t say anything, merely returned her smile, leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to her belly. “Daddy’s here, little guy. I’ll keep you warm."


	2. maelstrom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU that doesn't follow the events of the movie. They're still supers anyway.
> 
> /
> 
> In which Warren's favorite words are variations of "Goddamn".

In hindsight, maybe it was pretty stupid of him to have yelled at her. Okay, it was  _plenty_ stupid.

He hadn't meant to, not really. It was just... She had a way of lighting a fire in him—no pun intended—that set all of his rational sense to ashes and brought to the forefront unbridled, not to mention confusing, feelings he had yet to nor did he ever want to decipher. But after a week of silence that saw his countenance darkening with each day that passed, he figured that perhaps it was time to decipher them once and for all. Not that it would take  _that_ long to decode them; no, Warren had figured it out the first time she'd smiled at him—genuine, warm, and like no one's ever done before. It was a _real_ smile, and he'd be a liar if he said that the fiery maelstrom that engulfed him so completely whenever she was around (or even just in close proximity, for God's sake) hadn't ignited that first moment; and it only continued to grow in the moments they'd crossed paths thereafter, until he could see nothing but _red_ and  _orange_ and  _yellow_ and all the other Goddamn colors he's never really seen before. And all just because of that smile.

Not that he'd been keeping tabs or anything—that just wasn't something  _Warren Peace_ did. Okay, so maybe he  _did_ keep tabs—just a little bit.

But not that it mattered anyway. After the way he'd acted the last time she'd attempted to strike up a conversation with him, he wouldn't be surprised if she dropped him altogether. Everybody did eventually. That was all he ever knew. People coming in to his life to stay for the briefest of moments, and just when he was beginning to get used to the newcomer's presence, they realized he wasn't all that, packed up their things, and left, leaving behind a confused and very angry boy who couldn't understand why no one ever really _stayed_.

And it's not like he  _cared_ about her or what she thought of him anyway. She was just another one of those girls who believed they could break his walls and see the real him—whoever that guy is (hell if he knew, he barely recognized the face staring back at him in the mirror). He'd met plenty of girls like her before. Naive bimbos who made it their personal mission to worm their way under his skin in the hopes of being able to brag that she'd managed to break  _the_ Warren Peace out of his shell or some idiotic thing like that. Not that they ever succeeded. They usually took to the road after one very well-placed insult. Yeah, he was pretty sure that she was one of those girls. Except... Except that she wasn't, and he knew that like he knew the back of his hand.

Sighing, Warren slammed his locker shut and made his way to the back of the school. Parking his bike there meant he had to take a longer route than all the other kids who either took the school bus or parked their cars up front, but Warren preferred the way the short, routine stroll allowed his thoughts to clear. It always helped to put things in perspective, especially since he was usually the last to arrive and the first to leave school.

As he stalked past the overenthusiastic group of juniors to his left, his thoughts shifted back to the redhead that had been constantly filtering in and out of his consciousness lately. Sure, she wasn't one of those bimbos after all—he'd admit to that. But she wasn't anything special. Not at all. She was just a sidekick who could control  _plants_ of all the Goddamn elements in the world.

 _Yeah, a sidekick who had the potential to be a hero who could make_ life _and make things_ grow _. Sure, she's_ just _like everybody else._

Growling to himself, Warren pushed the thoughts away. What was a negative thing about the hippie that was sure to make all this craziness go to hell? Oh yeah, _that_. She was Stronghold's best friend.

The thought of Sky High's most famous super made him scowl. The kid was just  _so_ full of it! Just because his parents were "the world's greatest superheroes" didn't mean that their sonwould be one, too. What a wimp.

 _A wimp that had_ her _as his best friend._

Scoffing at the turn of his thoughts, Warren pushed down the urge to glare at everybody—not that he didn't make a habit of doing it anyway.

 _So what if Stronghold's got the hippie as his best friend? It's not like I'm jealous or anything. In fact, they can both stick together. The wimp and the annoying nature freak_.

But even as he thought about it, Warren knew that he was only half-heartedly convincing himself of it. He knew better than to believe she was annoying, and more importantly, that she was a freak.

_Try Goddamn goddess, why don't ya, Peace?_

At that, his body froze.

_Goddess? Where the hell did that—?_

Almost unconsciously, his hand pushed the school's backdoors open, the sudden burst of sunlight making spots temporarily dance in his eyes. When they cleared, his breath caught at the  _goddess_ that was leaning against his bike. The maelstrom was beginning to brew.

The sound of the door opening had caused her head to snap up, and her wide, doe-like eyes met his. He couldn't help but notice that she seemed nervous, on the edge of something he couldn't quite place.

She steeled herself and took a deep breath before offering a tentative smile. "Hi."

_Don't you say anything, Peace. Not that you could anyway, there's a_ _hairball stuck in your throat. Pathetic._

At his grunt of acknowledgement, Layla detached herself from the vehicle she'd been leaning against for the past five minutes and took a wary step towards him. "Look, about what I said last week, and what I've been saying these past few months, really... I—"

"Save it, hippie."

At his sudden interruption, Layla's nervous glance, which had been trained on the gravel beneath their feet the whole time she'd been talking, snapped to meet his. Her hazel eyes shimmered with hurt.

"I—"

"No, Layla. You don't have to apologize for anything. I... It's all me. I was wrong and—Goddammit, stop looking at me like that! I'm trying to tell you that I'm sorry and that I love you but I can't very well do that if you're looking at me like I'm the Goddamn harbinger of death! Look, just—"

Before he could even process anything he'd just said, nor continue to speak, for that matter, a flash of red on varying shades of green blindsided him before a warmth he'd never felt before fueled the maelstrom to an all time high.

"Layla—"

"I love you, too."

_Oh._


End file.
